


27th Batch

by Cyberrat



Series: Fic Batches [27]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), My Time At Portia (Video Game), Overwatch (Video Game), Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Asexual Character, Bladder Control, Body Positivity, Canon Non-Binary Character, Face-Fucking, Femdom, Impregnation Kink, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oviposition, Predicament Bondage, Rape Fantasy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spanking, Tentacle Sex, Tickling, Trans Male Character, Watersports, belly bulge, dick stepping, sph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-12-27 11:35:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21118121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberrat/pseuds/Cyberrat
Summary: 27th Batch of fics





	1. Alex/Elliott

**Author's Note:**

> Alex/Elliott – Stardew Valley – jock; big dick Alex; face fucking – Alex is angry and needs to let off some steam.

Elliott is a good ten years older than Alex but he gags for cock like the other guys from Alex’ football team.

Well… most of them anyway. 

His hair is nice in a long...ish… way where Alex can randomly grab into it and always have enough in his fist to throw Elliott around or pull him closer with. It’s really nice. Convenient, even.

It’s like Elliott has groomed himself to be the perfect fuckdoll and Alex honestly wouldn’t put it past him either. Not with how anxiously the dude is waiting for him in his little beach house, cheeks flushed a dull red and hands nervously clasped in front of him.

People might think that Alex does not think much, but the truth is that he does. About sports and his muscles and about where to best get his dick wet because the offers are… honestly way too much.

Elliott is a nice diversion. He’s not far from Alex’ favorite hangout spot and he is desperate enough to get his rocks off to do just about anything Alex tells him to.

He’s more eager than Dusty.

Alex has his hands shoved into his jeans when he comes visiting Elliott this time. He is grumpy and annoyed after an argument with his grandpa, and Elliott’s usual awkwardness and offer of tea is setting his teeth on edge where usually they make him grin and leer to get even more of a reaction out of him.

“Get naked,” he grunts impatiently, and Elliott might gape and flush but in the end he gets to work after just another glare from Alex. His body is average, Alex supposes. Nothing as hot as Alex’ himself, of course, but not horrible. He likes fucking this awkward bookworm; Elliott can get loud like some of the girls Alex has fucked.

He likes it when they’re loud.

He likes it even more when they try to be loud while he stuffs their goddamn throats.

Alex rarely gets completely naked. He likes depriving his partners and seeing how needy they get when he only whips out his dick, and Elliott is no exception there, either. Alex doesn’t fault them, though. He’s got a pretty nice cock, of course.

A pretty _big_ cock.

“Come on. Suck it.”

He just has to stand there with his hands on his hips and his cock hanging out of his jeans, drooping towards the floor with how fucking _big_ it is, and this guy ten years his senior drops to his knees and worships it.

It’s kinda cool.

Elliott makes low groaning noises whenever he gets his hands and mouth on Alex’ dick. His eyelids do a weird little flutter, too. It always reminds Alex of those old Disney movies with the princesses. It kinda fits Elliott. He’s the same kind of air head they are.

“Come on. Really get in there,” Alex grunts after a few moments. He moves his hips, slapping his cock against Elliott’s cheeks. Elliott flushes and doesn’t look Alex in the eyes as he tries to catch the plump red tip of his cock with his mouth.

He’s cute about all of that stuff. He probably needs someone he can _make love_ with but that’s not really Alex’ concern.

“Listen,” he hisses when Elliott is only suckling at the tip like a newborn babe. “Either you _suck my dick_ or you get out of my face, got it?”

He reaches down and grabs a handful of Elliott’s hair. That is always satisfying. He pulls and makes it hurt and he can see Elliott’s eyes welling with tears when he is forced to tip his head back and look up at his stud.

“Open up,” he grunts and Elliott obeys without protest, mouth falling open, showing off the slick red insides.

“There you go. You got some spit in there. Why aren’t you using that? You’re pretty bad at this, you know?” he lectures him while he grabs his cock, slowly giving himself a couple pumps. Elliott just keeps staring at him owlishly. His cheeks become a bit more red, though.

Alex suspects that the little slut is secretly really into this; into getting pushed and slapped around a little and forced to choke on cock until his face becomes a slightly concerning shade of light blue.

What a freak.

Alex sneers at him and points his cock at the open, greedy mouth. He slaps the tip against Elliott’s lower lip until he finally sticks his tongue out in the way that he likes.

“There. Finally. Wow, you’re kind of an idiot, aren’t you?”

He’s meaner than usual; he doesn’t usually say stuff like that, but in the back of his head his grandfather’s voice is still hollering at him something that sounds very similar. Elliott doesn’t seem to mind.

He groans all soft and needy with his tongue stuck out and almost going cross-eyed as he tries to look at Alex’ massive dick. Alex shakes his head. What a slut. They’re all the same. Ready to let someone trample all over them just to get a nice juicy cock shoved into them.

He kinda likes those the best. They’re the easiest. They don’t need a ton of work, they usually want to lie down and spread their legs all on their own.

“Alright. Hold still,” he tells him, fist tightening in Elliott’s hair. He takes a little step forward until he is able to bear down on him.

He just needs to put his cock in position and bend his knees, and _zing_, right to the core.

“Sh… that’s nice…” he sighs. He has his head in the back, staring blearily up at the ceiling of Elliott’s little beach shack. Elliott is nothing more than a slick toy at that point. He gurgles and hums and gags, but in the end he takes what Alex gives him. Nothing more and nothing less.

There is a bit resistance when Alex pushes down farther. He can feel Elliott struggling to open his throat for just a moment, and then there is a wet little clicking sound and the resistance parts beautifully before his cock.

Alex speeds up, then. He grabs Elliott’s head with both hands, and begins fucking him in sharp little thrusts that breach his throat again and again until he is gagging and hacking and grabbing at Alex’ hips with claw-like fingers.

He never makes him stop, though. He loves the treatment. He loves getting face fucked by young jocks and then go to around town with a scarf around his throat and pretend like he’s got a bit of a sniffle with dainty coughs and his shot voice.

Alex doesn’t care about Elliott’s image. He fucks him until he drools and he’ll pull out at the last second because he knows Elliott wants to drink him down but he rather jerk it off on his face and tits and watch how desperately hard his dick is.

Sometimes he’ll stay and watch Elliott jerk off for him. This time he packs in, pats Elliott’s head, and leaves before Elliott even has his hand around his dick.

It was a nice diversion but Alex needs more to let off some steam. He’ll go and play a bit football.


	2. Builder/Gust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gust/Builder – My Time At Portia – non-binary ace Builder; thigh fucking – Gust needs to be reassured that it is okay to have sexual feelings for an ace person.

Gust freezes when Phyllis runs past them just-so. She’d only need to turn her head to the side to see them standing just around the corner of the town wall, the Builder’s jeans around their knees, braced against the rock with their forearms to better stick out their ass.

Gust is standing with his hands on their hips, stock still like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. He watches her run along the road and towards the waterfall that is the starting point of the river.

Today is the fishing festival, after all. Countless town’s people have run past them in a last minute dash to get there on time, and Gust had frozen every single time it had happened.

The Builder giggles and Gust lets out a sharp breath before he lets his head fall forward and against the back of the Builder’s shoulder.

“Oh my goodness… Next time we do this somewhere else. I can’t deal with this stress.”

“Oh you can. I know you do,” the Builder murmurs. They sound sultry and teasing, and it goes right under Gust’s skin. He swallows hard, his hands loosening their tight grip around the Builder’s hips and then gently squeezing them.

“A-Alright. You’re… sure this is okay for you?”

The Builder hums softly, leaning their head forward against their stacked arms so he can see the profile of their face. A cute upturned nose and bright green eyes that had gotten his attention right from the start, even though he pretended not to be interested.

“Sure thing. I have nothing else to do. All the machines are working away on their stuff, and the plants are-”

“That’s… that’s not very sexy,” Gust murmurs, a flush spreading across the back of his nose. He looks down to the Builder’s naked ass and their slippery thighs. They are already glistening with wetness and just waiting for his cock. They’ve been pressed together the whole time, keeping the space between nice and snuggly warm for him.

The Builder huffs a soft laugh.

“Ah I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’ve been looking forward to this, though! I love spending time with you. We have so little time nowadays…”

Gust leans a bit in, the bright red tip of his swollen cock gently slipping up and down the crease made by the Builder’s thighs. He breathes deeply, feeling the cool spring breeze against the trickle of sweat on his temple, as well as tugging on his hair.

It feels good to do this outside, he has to admit despite himself. 

“Okay… okay… you’re ready? And… you’re sure this is okay?” he asks after a moment, one hand around the Builder’s shoulder now, the other on his cock to guide it where it needs to be.

The Builder turns their head some more and watches him out of the corner of their eye.

“I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t okay with it. It’s _fine_ for you to have sexual urges, Gust. I don’t mind at all! I like being with you. And helping you out. It’s exciting!” They grin at him. He feels flustered and unsure, two things that he doesn’t really like.

He nods with his chin almost on his chest, just stubbornly staring down. The Builder’s words aren’t really sexy again. They can fake it if they want to, like they did earlier, but Gust would feel even worse asking them to try.

It’s nice like this, though, he has to admit. They are hard working where they need to be and easy going where it counts. They fit right into Gust’s view of the world. So what if they are not interested in sex beyond some kissing? They like being touched by him even so.

They can walk through town holding hands or hugging or… doing all kinds of stuff. Nobody needs to know what they do behind closed doors. Or… in… in public as it were.

“I can hear you thinking,” the Builder murmurs with a low voice and he flushes hot and embarrassed.

“I’m sorry…” he mutters back.

The Builder grins and gently wiggles their ass.

“It’s alright. But I really want to feel you now, okay? Please don’t make me wait…”

Gust gently pushes forward. He groans softly at the feeling of their warm, slippery thighs encasing his cock on all sides. He is taller than the Builder and needs to bend his knees a little so his cock won’t drag against their genitals. Still, when it happens, the Builder does not make a fuss out of it; they reach down with a little hum and cup the tip of his cock when it slips out the front of their thighs to help push it down a little.

“There you go… Hmmm that’s nice. I like this.”

And Gust knows they do. They like the warmth and the togetherness. They like feeling his wheezing, needy breath on the back of their neck. Maybe they’ll masturbate later to the memory of how hot and bothered Gust had been over this.

Maybe they’ll let him know. The thought is… stupidly exciting. He really can’t complain. The Builder is always trying to meet him halfway where they both can be comfortable with what they are having.

Still… he often feels like he is… imposing on them or inconveniencing them. It is a feeling that is not easily ignored.

He fixates on what he can see of their face as he fucks their thighs. His cock is pulsing and happy, slipping through the wet mess and not caring what that hot little crevice is that it is fucking into.

It gets definitely even better, though, when Gust sees the little smile on the Builder’s face. A tranquil little thing as they keep bracing themselves with one arm, head on it as if they are a bit sleepy (which they probably are if he knows anything about them), and the other hand down to cup the head of his cock whenever it emerges.

It had been hard to understand that they have no problem touching him or getting him off, but just didn’t want to be touched sexually by him, but he is getting there. It is a learning process. Gust is pretty good at learning things.

The wind turns a little and they hear the screaming of the town’s people as the first round of the fishing tourney ends and the prizes are given out before the next round is on.

Gust freezes slightly, sweat prickling down his back. For a moment he had all forgotten about them standing right in the open. If anyone were to run back towards town now, there would be no doubt they would be seen.

The Builder is still grinning, a weird little glint in their eye.

“This is so fun! Don’t you think?”

Gust wheezes. He couldn’t stop now even if the whole town were to decide to end the stupid festival right then and there. He hasn’t been so hard in a long while. The Builder’s thighs are warm and slippery and all around him.

“Ohhh… are you going to come now? Does that do it for you? Oh you’re pretty nasty,” the Builder says in a weird mix of jeering and interested and sultry.

“N-Not sexy…” Gust whines but comes despite himself in hot, splashing bursts that have his ears just whistle for a moment while he feels the body in front of him bounce with chuckles.


	3. Doomfist/Reaper + Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doomfist/Reaper + Soldier76 – rape/non-con; big dick Akande; mindbreak; voyeurism; watersports – Akande shows his pet off.

Jack hasn’t seen Gabriel in a... while. It needs for him to see how long Gabriel’s hair has become, though, to realize just how much time had passed.

There is a moment where his arm twitches to grab for the laptop and slam it closed… or maybe hurl it across the dilapidated room he is in, but he does neither.

He sits and stares, drinking in the sight of his old lover gone rogue so many years ago. Gabriel’s rich dark skin has become somewhat ashen, more reminiscent of a corpse, but the rest of him… oh, the rest of him…

Still those same hard muscles and thick round thighs… The same meticulous mustache and goatee. Long, waving hair like the model on a romance novel which is currently curled around the fist of one Akande Ogundimu who holds Gabriel close to his body as he seems to still wait for the connection to establish on his end.

Soldier knows that he has a picture when he grins, his wide sensual mouth looking impossibly plush and attractive. Jack doesn’t _want_ to find him attractive; not when he has Gabriel while Jack is sitting in a damp room of an abandoned, cheap motel.

“Ah… there he is. Can you see him, pet?” Ogundimu’s voice is only slightly distorted. It still has all of its charm as he glances first at Jack to make sure he is watching, and then uses the grip he has on Gabriel’s hair to move his head around like a puppet.

Gabriel is naked and without much of tension in his body. It looks like standing up is just about the most he can and will do for himself; his dark eyes look empty and without a shine to them as he is made to look up to Doomfist.

“What do you want from me,” Jack growls, but neither man is reacting in any way. He grinds his teeth as Doomfist kisses Gabriel slow and self-indulgent, urging him to open his mouth so he can plunge in deep and almost throat fuck him with his tongue. Jack’s hands slowly curl into fists.

There are a ton of angry accusations stuck in his throat; him, questioning what this is about; why Doomfist went to the trouble of picking out the signal of his laptop in the sea of communication in the area.

(And also the worrying realization that Talon can do that in the first place…)

But he doesn’t voice any of them because the answer is glaringly obvious: Because he apparently can, and he wants to show off his pet.

Gabriel’s lips are wet when Akande finally pulls back, his mouth slightly open still, chest heaving. Jack is stuck staring at the broad pecs moving as Gabriel sucks in the oxygen that he’s been deprived off while letting Akande tongue fuck his mouth.

“Down. Show me your hole.” Akande’s voice is gentler than his words would make it seem. He lets go of Gabriel’s long hair to let him move.

Gabriel does so with a kind of negligent grace. He looks completely out of it but obeys nonetheless. It sets Jack’s teeth on edge. This is not the Gabriel he’s known.

_His_ Gabriel had been questioning every last command down to a point of eternal frustration for Jack.

He bites the tip of his tongue, watching as Gabriel goes down on his elbows while lifting his ass high in the air. He looks like a grade A slut. Jack’s cock pulses despite himself.

God, Gabriel is beautiful…

Ogundimu is grinning again. He glances towards the screen, looking mighty pleased that Jack is still watching. Jack doesn’t want to… but he also can’t make himself look away. Not when Ogundimu opens the drawstring of his pants and lets the fattest cock Jack has ever seen flop out of them.

There is an instant reaction of fear as his insides clench and seem to shrivel just thinking about taking a monster like that.

Ogundimu’s grin widens. He finally looks back down at Gabriel and nudges his hip with one bare foot.

“Go on. Turn around a bit. Let him see.”

Gabriel moves immediately; turning until Jack can see glimpses of the dark space between his ass cheeks. Everything looks so… wet. Glistening.

Gabriel turns a little more still, urged on by Doomfist’s nudging foot and Jack lifts a hand, pressing it against his mouth to muffle the low, punched-out groan he can’t keep back.

Gabriel’s hole is… loose. Sloppy. A goddamn fucking ruin. It looks like he’s been fucked without reprieve for hours, _days_ maybe. He is trembling like a colt all over, ready to perform more. Greedy for it, maybe, despite the blank look in his eyes.

Doomfist is laughing about all of it like it is the best joke he’s heard all week.

He moves.

“Watch, Mr. Soldier 76. He can do a lot more neat tricks.”

Akande is a tall man; even taller than Jack or Gabriel, and he does not seem inclined to get on his knees for Gabriel.

He leans down and curls his arms around his hips, lifting his lower body up until Gabriel is at a steep angle, almost dangling head down from Doomfist’s arms, just to get him at a nice height for the other to conveniently dip his cock into.

Jack doesn’t even realize he is leaning in until his breath is starting to gently fog up the screen.

Gabriel makes a soft cry of vague distress; the first sound he’s made since the video has started. He drags his fingers slightly against the slick looking floor, almost as if trying to crawl away, but even this small act of defiance only lasts a few seconds before he calms down again and seems to just roll with his new lot in life that is hanging upside down.

And then Jack is treated to the sight of Doomfist gently nudging the tip of his massive dick against Gabriel’s soft gape and starting to fuck it inside.

The sight is… honestly mesmerizing.

For a few moments, Gabriel doesn’t react at all; he is just bracing himself against the floor with his forearms, legs uselessly hanging down as he lets himself get used like a fleshlight. About halfway to taking Ogundimu’s cock, however, a bit of spirit seems to flare.

He moves, uselessly clawing against the floor again, one leg slightly kicking out as if in a spasm just from being filled to the max by Doomfist who is crooning at him, low and surprisingly gentle, until…

Jack’s cock is pulsing in his pants despite himself. He first recoils from the screen, then leans in again, mouth going so very dry as he watches Gabriel stop his fighting and just… piss, the stream hitting the pristine floor and quickly building a puddle.

It looks submissive, the way he does it; like there is a primal part in him that needs to show that he is a _good boy_ and that he is putting himself beneath his superior.

This is… horrible. Disgusting. Jack tries to think of the Gabriel that _he_ knows. The Gabriel that would have _never_…

But it becomes harder and harder to remember that Gabriel when he watches this pretty little doll getting railed and staying nice and lax for it, too.

Doomfist laughs. Maybe at him, maybe at Gabriel, maybe at the situation in general.

In any case, he seems to have the most fun of them all.


	4. McCree/Hanzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree/Hanzo – transman McCree; SPH (small penis humiliation); dick stepping; consensual – Jesse has brought up a kink he’s always wanted to try. Hanzo is hesitant but plays along.
> 
> (WARNING: this fic contains consensual humiliation of transman McCree. Not about him being trans or his status as a man. Still, don’t read if you even think this might not be something you would enjoy.)

Hanzo is slowly circling around Jesse, watching him from every angle, sitting in that simple wooden chair.

He looks absolutely massive in it; big round muscles, slouched back and starting to light a cigar as he lets Hanzo inspect him without a care in the world.

Jesse is naked, of course, and Hanzo doesn’t think he has ever met a man as unperturbed about their own nakedness – outside of an _onsen_, that is – as Jesse McCree in all his hairy, brawny glory.

When Hanzo comes to stand in front of him and can’t help but look between his thick, hairy thighs, McCree grins and angles his knees farther apart as if he knows that it makes the wetness on the thick brown fur glisten.

It has thrown Hanzo for a loop that this man of all would ask him for a boon such as this. It throws him even more now that he is trying to get into the headspace and Jesse is sitting there like a pirate king on a filthy throne; just sloppily owning the little wooden chair Hanzo has dragged out of an unused side room.

“Well then, partner,” Jesse croons, blowing smoke as he speaks. He tries to puff it into Hanzo’s face but he hasn’t built up enough steam on the cigar to quite get there. He still grins roguishly as if he’d managed; the bravado of a cheeky little boy. Hanzo is enamored despite himself. “We gonna start or you just wanna peruse the goods?”

Still, it is an easy thing for him to just keep up an unimpressed exterior, slowly lifting one thick, black brow.

“That depends. I am still unsure about what _the goods_ entail, to be quite frank.”

Jesse grins at him around the cigar he’s clamped between his teeth. There’s a bit of a sharper edge to it than usual, his soft dark eyes squinted at the corners. He’s not looking as easy going as he usually does, and Hanzo wonders if he might be having second thoughts, but they have a safeword in place for that.

It takes him watching Jesse slowly drag his hand from beneath his arm down his side in a swoop that looks more like a flourish, showing off the entirety of his body to realize that Jesse is merely _nervous_.

He’s never tried this with anyone. He’s just trying to figure out if this will be as good as he’s always imagined it would be.

Hanzo lets his eyes follow the motion of McCree’s hand. He lowers his brows and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“I hope you have something worthwhile to offer as well, McCree. I am not impressed as of now.”

Jesse’s slim nostrils flare. Hanzo can see how he is starting to get _interested_ in this. He probably hadn’t thought that Hanzo would actually indulge him and go through with this.

McCree slowly reaches up and pulls the cigar out of his mouth. He shifts slightly, and it is already enough to change his body language from easy self-assurance to something more tight and nervous.

He licks his lips and when he speaks, his voice is a bit more scratchy than usual: “Aah… don’t be like that, babe. You know I always save the best for last…”

He puts his metal hand on his belly and lets it slowly crawl down through the thick strip of fur that naturally leads the gaze down like a flashy arrow. Hanzo always had thought that it suited Jesse quite well. He’s the kind of man that would want everyone to look at what he’s packing.

Hanzo stares down at him hard, watching as Jesse spreads the lips of his cunt to show off the thick jut of his cock. It is rapidly growing beneath Hanzo’s cold, unimpressed glare.

“I can’t see a thing,” Hanzo drawls. His heart is jackrabbiting up into his throat suddenly, eyes flicking briefly up to Jesse’s face to gauge his reaction, but his dark cheeks are getting ruddy with color and he slowly licks his teeth.

Jesse’s ass slips closer to the edge of the chair, making him slouch down more. It doesn’t look quite as casual and self-assured anymore, though. Hanzo is quite fascinated with the change. He’s never seen Jesse anything but loudly confident. He watches as McCree reaches to the side and puts the cigar away on an ashtray so he has his hands free.

Hanzo is glad he’s put on some wide lounge pants. It would destroy the illusion if Jesse could see how desperately hard he is getting, watching his partner gently card his thick pubes to the side tugging the thick lips of his cunt apart to let Hanzo have a nice good look at his thumb long erection, thick and as ruddy red as his cheeks at that point.

“There ya go,” Jesse murmurs into his beard. His dark eyes are glancing up at Hanzo, a bit wet and hopeful looking.

“Hm… what’s that supposed to be?”

Jesse’s breath hitches noticeably. His knees swing slightly inwards as if he wants to close his legs, but Hanzo’s foot is there, rudely tapping at the inside of his partner’s ankle.

“Keep them open. I want to see.”

Jesse obeys. The rush of power Hanzo feels in that moment is… impossibly good. He steps closer, starting to really get into this. Jesse is breathing deep and loud.

“My cock…” He has resorted to mumbling now. He seems like an embarrassed little boy, and Hanzo has never seen him like this. It is… adorable. And quite addictive.

“That?!” he asks, body moving all on its own as he lifts his leg and puts the naked sole of his foot right against the juicy gash of Jesse’s cunt. He can feel the wetness against his skin. Jesse is hot enough to burn up, it seems.

There is a little voice screaming at the back of Hanzo’s head, wondering what the hell he is doing, but his body is seemingly moving on auto pilot and Jesse is staring at him with a kind of open-mouthed, dumb fascination that makes him think that he is quite into this as well.

“That little thing is a nothing, Jesse. What the hell do you even want to do with it?”

He presses his toes against Jesse’s cock, testing out what he can get away with, and Jesse’s eyelids flutter and his eyes try to roll back into his head with a low gurgle.

“Don’t you think it is rude to waste my time like this?”

Jesse doesn’t react, so Hanzo pushes harder with his foot, slowly crushing Jesse’s cock until he gasps and looks up at him with wide, shocked eyes.

“I asked you a question.”

Jesse blinks slowly, obviously trying to remember.

“S...Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, Jesse?” he asks silkily.

Later, they will speak about this and find out what worked and what didn’t. He will suck Jesse off and make sure he knows that he’s very happy about everything his lover’s body has to offer.

Here and now, though, they are still _playing_.

“For… for my small dick,” Jesse rasps. His ruddy blush has extended to the tips of his ears peeking out from the messy fall of his hair.

Hanzo grins slowly, showing off one sharp canine.

“You should be sorry for it. Pathetic excuse for a cock.”

Jesse whines and tries to fuck his hips up against the sole of Hanzo’s foot.

Hanzo hadn’t been sure if he’d be into this kind of game, but… he’s quite sure now.


	5. Reaper/Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper/Soldier – predicament bondage; piercings; kind of public; slut shaming – Jack is a sluuuut what is neeeew :)

When Gabriel has free moments on a job, he likes to dial into the Overwatch surveillance system on whatever base Jack happens to be on.

It never fails to entertain.

Seeing Jack pretending to be a pristine angel of society, jutting out his chin and straightening his shoulders to make others look up to him and adore him, never fails to be amusing to Gabriel. Just… never fails to put a big ol’ smile on his face and make him kick his dusty boots up on a rickety table while getting his dick out, because he knows the truth.

He knows that Jack might be a brilliant politician and all that, but most of all Jack is a little sloppy _slut_ that gets off on his own loose cunt more than anything else.

Gabriel finds Jack on the third camera that he checks. He is on the balcony of the Australian base, leaning against the railing and talking to two other men. Gabriel grunts with a smirk as he sees the mild curve to his back. It is almost imperceptible but there: Jack not standing perfectly ramrod straight to put a bit of a slack on… ah yes.

Gabriel slowly squeezes his dick. He loves it when Jack puts on the chains. Beautiful, filigrane silver chains that he hooks into the little matching rings in his nipples, leading down in a twinkling, tantalizing V to his crotch and framing his cock and balls to be hooked into the little ring in his taint.

Long enough to stand straight without damaging himself. Short enough to definitely make it _uncomfortable_.

God, he wishes he were there.

.o.

A couple weeks later, Jack has no idea that Gabriel is on the premises, and he intends to keep it that way for just a little longer.

He’s lying on Jack’s bed, even, slowly fucking his erection against the pristine, cool sheets while watching Jack move about his day. Wearing those infernal chains again.

If he squints just hard enough he can see the slight flush to the tip of Jack’s ears when he walks through the hallways, long legs just a little stiffer than usual.

Oh, Jackie boy is hot for it. Really hot for it. Maybe he’s wearing a cockring as well to help him keep it down. The thought is stupidly exciting.

Strike Commander Morrison dolled up like a trashy whore beneath his perfect get-up, talking to subordinates and the brass alike while his balls are flushed an enticing brick red, gently swollen from being confined in the ring. His cock, too, will be just a bit chubbed up because of the constant pull and tug on his nipples and taint.

God, this fucking… Gabriel’s nostrils flare. He bites his bottom lip hard, arm twitching as there is a moment that he wants to reach down and curl his big fist around his dick, but keeps himself from doing so.

He has other things planned with his cock. He needs it nice and ready.

His torture is finally over when Jack decides that he can’t take it anymore and makes his slightly limping way towards his quarters.

There is a rush of stupid excitement when Gabriel can hear the door opening in the next room, and see it on the screen as well. He doesn’t make a sound, just watches as Jack takes off his long blue duster and throws it away.

His movements become jerky and sloppy as he makes his way over to his big desk. Gabriel can hear his breathing now; loud and obnoxious and heavy. The breathing of a pervert as he lets himself plonk into his chair which is creaking desperately beneath the weight of a super soldier.

Gabriel keeps nice and quiet for now. He pulls his phone closer. He’s already put it on soundless as he watches how Jack’s face relaxes immediately as the constant pull and tug finally ceases.

Gabriel types out a message, his back breaking out in goosebumps when he can hear the chirping of Jack’s phone so close. Jack has no idea he’s here, just a couple meters away, fucking his wet dick into the sheets.

_Get back up_ the message reads.

He can hear Jack’s reedy whine instead of just imagining it like he always has to, and that is infinitely more exciting. On the screen he can see Jack flushing a dull red as he grabs the armrests of his chair and has to calm himself down enough to lever himself back up.

He obeys like he usually does; being watched by Gabriel is nothing new for him.

He gets off on the thought that someone knows what kind of sloppy whore he is. He gets off knowing that Gabriel is just into it like he is.

Jack stands there awkwardly, waiting on more orders, fingers twitching nervously at his sides. The big Strike Commander can be as soft as a little boy when he’s caught doing something naughty.

_Get naked. Don’t touch yourself._

Jack obeys this, too. Gabriel listens to the rustling in the next room. He shuffles his thick thighs apart, digging his knees into the mattress. He fucks harder against the bed. Fuck… he really needs Jack. He _really_ fucking _needs_ him.

The chain twinkles beautifully in the light. It looks just as good as always. His nipples are flushed red as if inflamed. Pudgy looking from the constant tug and pull.

_Are you prepared?_

He watches on the screen as Jack fumbles to type something out. It takes way too long for the single _Yeah_ that finally reaches him. He almost sobs in elation. The thought of having to spend time preparing Jack when he could spend it fucking him until he cries is unbearable.

_Go into your bedroom_

He throws the phone to the side and rolls around. His wet dick is springing up and wagging like a dog’s tail just in time to Jack stepping obediently into his bedroom and freezing on the spot, his glazed blue eyes going big, mouth opening in a perfect cock-sucking ‘o’ of surprise.

Gabriel doesn’t give him time to process any of it. He grabs him and pushes him down and has him folded up to present the wet crack if his ass all in seemingly one smooth movement.

Jack is gaping up at him still from the valley of his tits squished together. His whole pale body is flushed a piggy pink now, and Gabriel doesn’t take the time to help him get his junk out of the restricting tight cockring.

Jack doesn’t need to come; but _Gabriel_ does. 

Jack is a slut; he can have it any day of the week, spreading his legs for a fucking, deep dicking himself with his fingers or toys (or, one very memorable time, the shower head), and Gabriel thinks it is only his right to fuck him like a bull now while ogling the pretty little ring pierce through his taint.

He grabs the dainty little silver chains between two thick fingers and tugs. Jack _howls_, his insides clenching like a vice around Gabriel’s cock.

Gabriel fucks him like a man possessed, drilling into Jack’s belly until all that fills the room is the sound of the wet squelching and Jack’s choked, desperate cries as he tries not to topple over, his long legs uselessly wagging in the air while Gabriel tugs on the chain until tears spring into his eyes.

His cock is dribbling relentlessly despite itself, drooling onto Jack’s tits and into his own face.

God, Gabriel loves that the Strike Commander is a nasty whore.


	6. RK900/Gavin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RK900/Gavin – spanking; punishment; humiliation – Reed is a little bitch as per usual.

“You have acted against direct orders, detective.”

RK900 is standing perfectly straight off to the side, his hands folded behind his back. He looks bored as he reminds Gavin of all his failures, setting his teeth on edge as he carefully takes care of another scrape on his elbow from falling two stories into a fucking dumpster that he could have sworn hadn’t been on that spot in the alley before.

“I _got_ it, alright? Fucking tincan. I’m still your _fuckin_ supe-”

“No, you are not,” Nines interrupts him smoothly. There is no particular inflection in his voice or any emotion to speak of in his perfect fucking plastic face, but Gavin still has the distinct impression that he is _smug_ and rubbing it under his nose. “You seem to forget the conversation we had last Wednesday at exactly 4:02 PM in the office of Captain Fowler.”

Gavin clenches his teeth until his jaw hurts as much as his head. He lowers his chin against his chest, oily fringe falling into his face. Beneath it, he looks nervously around the precinct, but nobody is there; the whole crew has scurried off into the break room because they are _fucking useless_.

“Keep your fucking voice down,” he hisses nonetheless. He can see Nines taking an unhurried look around which he is… pretty sure he is just doing to fuck with Gavin because the tincan is able to scan for lifeforms without explicitly having to look for them.

He bares his teeth in a snarl when the android simply lifts his brows at him as if to say ‘there’s nobody around’.

“Detective,” Nines begins again, his calm voice sounding only a tad bit annoyed which delights Gavin to no end. He grabs for the disinfectant and another cotton ball to clean what he thinks might be the last scratch. “I know that our current hierarchy is not something you welcome, but if you insist on your reckless behavior simply to be contrary and do the exact opposite of what I asked you to do, I will have to take measures which will ensure that the lesson sticks and you will think twice before engaging in dangerous activity next time.”

…

Nines can see the Detective’s hackles rising immediately. It takes him about .4 seconds to parse what Nines has said before he slams the bottle of disinfectant rather violently on his desk, shooting up from his chair like a firecracker and getting right into the android’s calm, collected face.

“_Don’t_ order me around, tincan. I am _above_ you, and I will crush you under my heel if you try to be smart with me.”

Nines lifts one dark, perfect brow, then pointedly looks down at the far smaller Detective. Reed’s face immediately turns an agitated dark red, as was expected. His face twists and he lifts a hand, apparently ready to dig his finger into Nines’ chest, or maybe push him back with an open palm (both futile endeavors), but Nines reacts before Reed could ever touch him. His hand jerks up, curling about the human’s delicate, fragile wrist, and twisting him around before he can even figure out what has happened.

“What the fu-ah!”

He goes easily up on the balls of his feet with just minimal pressure from Nines. Of course he tries to thrash his way out of the android’s grip, but it is laughably simple to keep him contained with just one arm twisted a bit meanly on his back.

Humans are so… fragile. So inefficient.

“I think,” Nines says slowly over the hissing and cussing of his partner: “That you need a slight… adjustment of your mentality, Detective.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Reed asks between grit teeth. Nines nods, if even just to himself.

The little ring at his temple flashes a brief yellow as he hacks into the police station’s security and quietly locks the door to the break room. There is no sign that the inhabitants would leave it any time soon, but he does not want to leave anything up to chance.

His recalcitrant partner does not have to know, though.

Reed is wearing a heavy brown belt, and it takes him a few seconds to realize that Nines is fiddling with it because he seems to be distracted by the android stepping close to his back, breathing down his neck, if Nines were indeed breathing.

“What the… what the Hell are you doing?!” Reed screeches, his voice climbing to unknown heights in the way that makes Nines feel like he should be having a headache.

“I will teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget, Detective. I will make you submit like one would a misbehaving dog so that you will understand once and for all that you are no longer in charge in this relationship.”

Reed tries to struggle but whenever he becomes too cheeky, Nines just needs to renew the painful twist he has on his arm, almost dislocating his shoulder by the time he finally has his pants open and sliding down to his knees all by themselves just from his struggling.

“I will kill you!” Reed screeches, but there is very little he can do when Nines takes a seat on Reed’s abandoned chair and drapes the struggling man across his lap.

“You are encouraged to try,” Nines tells him, modulating his inflection to make it sound fond. He can’t deny that he does kind of… enjoy his interactions with this aggressive little man. It is… fun… to put him into his place.

Reed has a nice little ass that looks very pale in the cool overhead lights of the precinct.

Nines switches to recording as he lifts his free hand and lets it jerk down onto the struggling man’s ass.

Reed sucks in air and makes a sound like he is choking on it. He becomes very, very still.

Nines does not ask him if this is _ok_, or if he feels _good_; he just lifts his arm again, slapping once more with a bit more gusto. He takes in with an almost detached interest the readings popping up on his HUD.

He is enjoying this. Putting Detective Reed over his knee.

He spanks him again and again, just to make sure that this hasn’t been an erroneous reading, but…

Reed is making sounds now. New ones that should be angry but fall short just shy of it.

Nines stops analyzing his own reactions and instead focuses on doing the same to Reed. He has stopped struggling and is just lying like a sack of potatoes across Nines’ lap. He is making punched out sounds whenever the flat of the android’s unrelenting hand hits his ass.

The jolt of it has him rutting forward, and Nines feels a fiendish sort of delight at realizing that it is Reed’s cock poking into the side of his thigh.

Ah… this idiot human can teach him a few things after all. How interesting.

“You are enjoying this,” Nines murmurs. He lets go of Reed’s arm but the Detective does not seem to notice. Instead, he grabs at his head and turns it forcibly around to be able to look into his face.

It is flushed an impossible shade of red, his eyes so bright and wet, he looks on the very verge of tears.

“No…” he gasps to be contrary, but Nines spanks him again and he goes a bit cross-eyed. He hits him once more, and Reed’s hips stutter and jerk, digging his cock against the fabric of Nines’ perfectly pressed slacks.

He hits again, sharp and low, just threatening to catch Reed’s balls with the same motion, and Reed chokes and whines, a sob clearly stuck in his throat as he starts to come, just a few sharp spanks into his behavioral correction.

“Oh dear…” Nines says softly, a mean smirk on his lips.


	7. Roadhog/Junkrat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roadhog/Junkrat – extreme insertion/belly bulge; impregnation kink – Jamison is a family person and Roadhog needs a few minutes of him not bouncing around like a humming bird.

Roadhog has been sitting in front of the shabby cabin for hours now, watching the rat slink around, giggling and muttering to himself as he dug around the debris littering the wide expanse of the wasteland.

It all looked like useless goddamn crap to Roadhog, but he was quite sure that Jamison would manage to put together a deathtrap even so.

There is an uncanny genius in the little rodent that is exhausting most of the time but that Roadhog can’t deny is quite fascinating to watch.

When the rat is bent over like he is now, Roadhog can count every single knob of his spine if he is so inclined. Jamison’s metabolism is a wild little thing; just like the man it is attached to.

“Hey,” Roadhog grunts. Jamison turns around, a wide grin on his gaunt, sharp face. He looks like he is paying attention but Roadhog can see that he really is not. “Eat that,” he says roughly and throws a speared, roasted lizard towards the kid. Jamison obediently catches it and stuffs it in his mouth but goes back to his work, distractedly chewing on the tough meat.

A few moments later, Jamison jerks up and wanders to another part closer to the corner of the cabin. Roadhog doesn’t leave him out of his sight for even a second. With Jamison, it can be fatal to let him just do his shit unsupervised.

When he again loses interest on whatever he’s been working on there, and wanders past Roadhog, his big hand shoots out and curls around Jamison’s scrawny upper arm. It feels so thin, he is quite sure he could snap it between his fingers like a dry little twig.

Jamison’s head swings around and he is staring at him owlishly before an infernal screech comes out of him that is honestly quite impressive for how narrow and bony his chest is.

“Oi! Watch it! I need to get back to work, mate!”

Roadhog pulls him closer and Jamison winds himself like a snake. He is all sharp angles and he digs his elbows without mercy into Roadhog’s huge gut. Roadhog grunts, trying to clamp down on Jamison’s flailing limbs, but the kid is impossibly slick as if he had been dunked in motor oil.

“You’ve been playing around all day. Sit down and breathe.”

All that does is make Jamison screech again like an angry bird. Roadhog’s ears ring and he winces behind his mask. Jamison is a self-destructive little shit.

“It’s not going to be good for the baby,” Roadhog murmurs next, and that does the trick. Jamison freezes and after a moment turns his head to peer at Roadhog with one huge, gold eye that does not seem quite _there_, but lucid enough for Roadhog’s taste. There is always a give-and-take to be had with Mr. Fawkes. 

“It’s not…” Jamison murmurs thoughtfully, bushy brows slightly twitching together in thought. He is finally sitting still long enough for Roadhog to maneuver him onto his lap and let one fat hand slide across Jamison’s tight belly.

“No it is not,” Roadhog says as if Jamison had asked a question. “Babies need calm.”

His thick fingers are pushing into Jamison’s pants. They are just as loose as his own and easily pushed down to show off Jamison’s long, thin cock and the shock of dark blond pubes it is nestled in.

“They need calm,” Jamison repeats slowly. He has his hand curled as far as possible around Roadhog’s fat wrist, just holding on as he is made to spread his thin legs so Roadhog’s broad fingers can nudge between his meager cheeks and see just how loose his hole still is from last time.

It has taken Roadhog by surprise to find out just how into the thought of having a family Jamison really is. He is not an infant or a child; he does have his neurological and psychological… dents… but he is still able to make disturbingly informed decisions (which makes the things he does more creepy in Roadhog’s opinion).

That he would be sweet and docile to let Roadhog try and put a baby in his belly has thrown him for a loop; but he is not going to argue. Not when that means that Jamison will be still and calm for a blessed half hour, and Roadhog gets to deep dick a silky warm hole in the process.

Just as the rest of Jamison’s body seems to be covered in a perpetual sheen of oil, his hole is no different. Roadhog doesn’t want to try and figure out how it even got there. There are some things in his life he doesn’t need to know. He might be Jamison’s bodyguard but he is not his babysitter.

Fuck if he cared what freaky shit the boy shoved up his ass to get a rabbit quick little orgasm out of himself.

“Hey…” Roadhog murmurs right against Jamison’s ear. They’re sooty and grimy but surprisingly delicate whenever he pushes his mask up enough to feel the thin cartilage against his thick lips. “Do you want me to make you a baby?”

He’s never been into this kind of shit, but times and people change. He knows that better than most. He has one hand curled around his fat cock. It was easy to slip it out of his drooping pants. His belly is pushing against Jamison’s back, making him naturally want to lean forward and show off the gaping little hole he’s got.

“Yes…” Jamison whispers breathlessly. There is a moment of quiet and then he suddenly starts babbling when Roadhog drags the spongy head of his cock against the slick dark hole. “Please give it to me, I’ll be real good, please please please!”

Roadhog huffs. Being ‘real good’ entails to just lie there come-dump, speared on his cock for a few minutes before his brain goes back online. But he is not going to argue; it wouldn’t make any sense.

“You want it that badly, huh? Have me put a baby into you…” He is never speaking as much as when he is dirty talking his employer. That’s alright as well. He likes the effect it has on Jamison to feel him slowly popping his massive cock into him while crooning in his ear about how he is going to fuck him and fill him until he feels like he is going to explode.

How he will get him nice and fat with his seed.

Jamison takes his cock like a goddamn pro. It’s a bit addicting. Roadhog has never met anybody like it; who just could stretch and stretch and stretch, accommodating his impossible girth and taking it without a hitch or a whimper of protest.

Jamison is slim enough to make him look like his hips would be dislodged by the massive cock, but all he does is sigh and gurgle and lean back over the huge swell of Roadhog’s belly. He is like one of those fucking snake people and Roadhog is not going to complain.

Fuck no.

He can see his cock in Jamison’s belly; there is a perfect bulge of it. He feels like he has to be pushing Jamison’s intestines out of the way to make room for his dick, but Jamison just sighs and gurgles for more and has this dreamy, far-away look on his face that he only gets when he is getting fucked.

“A baby,” he slurs. “Just for me.”

“Yeah,” Roadhog grunts, hands around Jamison’s hips, moving him up and down his cock like a fleshlight. “Just for you.”


	8. Reaper/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper/Soldier76 – ticklish; wetting; bladder desperation – Jack is a jerk and Gabriel is really really desperate.

Gabriel looks… ferociously grumpy when Jack finally finds him briskly walking down a corridor towards him. Brisk enough that it could almost be called a run, to be honest.

He can see the tightening of his mouth when Gabriel spots him.

Not exactly the happy welcome he had thought he would get, but Gabriel is pissed off more often than not so he doesn’t really pay any attention to it.

“Hey there,” he croons as he smoothly steps into Gabriel’s path to intercept him. “Where are you off to so quickly? I thought your shift was done.”

Gabriel makes a sound like an impatient horse. He places a hand right on the middle of Jack’s chest and pushes against him with a surprising amount of force.

“Yeah. And I have important business to attend now. Get out of my way.”

Jack remains standing right where he is, brows pulled up high in surprise at the rude treatment. They hadn’t seen each other for a couple days and he’d thought Gabriel would be a lot more happy to see him now.

“Hey now. Nothing can be more important than your boyfriend, can it?” he says, stepping a little closer. He lifts a hand, gently petting through Gabriel’s goatee. The wrinkles at the corners of Gabriel’s eyes deepen, but not exactly in satisfaction or humor. He is so tense that his whole body seems to almost vibrate.

“I mean it, Morrison. Get out of my way.”

Jack frowns. He doesn’t get out of his way but he does stop scratching beneath his chin, instead putting his hands on Gabriel’s shoulders.

“What’s up? Can I help?”

Gabriel’s face twitches weirdly before he jerks his arms up to slap Jack’s hands away.

“Oh my _God_, Morrison!” he hisses, looking around with mild agitation to see if anybody is close. They’re alone in the hallway right now.

“I just got to _piss_, alright?! I’ve had to use the bathroom since I started my shift eight fucking hours ago and I haven’t had a goddamn minute since to actually go! So get out of my- what the _HELL_ are you doing?!” Gabriel’s last words become a screech as Jack swiftly crouches in front of him and suddenly rams his shoulder into his belly as he levies him up to be hanging over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

It is almost over right then and there. All the air leaves Gabriel’s lungs as he clenches his thick thighs together, tears springing to his eyes. He can’t piss now. He can’t. _Oh my fucking God Morrison, I’m going to kill you._

Jack thinks this is all just a joke. He is laughing and patting the back of one of Gabriel’s thighs.

“You’re a big boy. You can hold it,” he says with gentle amusement as he lugs the heavy ass of one Gabriel Reyes through the corridors of the base, taking care to not run into anybody as he’s doing so.

In normal circumstances, Gabriel would have already struggled his way down from Jack’s shoulder, and probably kicked him in the nuts for being a fucking jock, but these are… not normal circumstances.

Gabriel doesn’t know if he’s ever had to use the bathroom _this_ much. His bladder feels full to bursting to the point that it is actually hurting; a bone deep pain that makes him also nauseous as he can’t do anything but hang over Jack’s shoulder and claw at the back of his shirt, just trying his utmost to not lose the fight, even though there is a constant little bounce going on that digs Jack’s shoulder all anew into his belly.

There are actual, real tears pricking at the corners of his eyes by the time that Jack bounces him on the bed.

Jack straddles him quickly before Gabriel can squirm his way away, grinning at him wide and happy.

“I’ve missed you,” he announces while grabbing the hem of Gabriel’s hoodie and starting to pull it up until he can see the delicious plane of his partner’s belly. “Lets have some fun and then you can go to the bathroom, alright?”

It can’t be as immediate as Gabriel had said. He’s not even trying to get away now; just lying there looking dazed and staring at Jack with an expression that he can’t quite decipher.

Jack, on the other hand, is _very immediately_ hard and horny, and he’s been looking forward to this moment for about three days.

Gabriel’s sides are… impossibly sensitive to tickling. It’s almost stupid, really. Jack has never met a person in his life that is as ticklish as one Gabriel Reyes. It is kind of addicting, if he is being honest. Gabriel smiles so rarely and laughs virtually never, so tickling him is a treat that Jack takes for himself every now and then.

This time is no exception. He drags his fingertips feather light against Gabriel’s sides, and Gabriel goes stock still before squirming and making a very weird sound; a kind of rusty squawk as his arms flail and he tries to reach down and keep Jack from doing what he’s doing.

But Jack is hard and determined, and Gabriel is not exactly putting up a good fight. He is even more uncoordinated than usual when he is getting tickled.

As Jack really gets into it, Gabriel’s laughter has a weird edge to it; like he really, really tries not to make a sound but has no other option but to comply.

Jack… really loves the sound of Gabriel’s voice. He is grinning like a loon himself, hips moving gently to hump his erection against the bulge of Gabriel’s cock.

Fuck, he’s missed this. He’s missed _them_, he’s…

Suddenly, Gabriel goes very still. His laughter is cut off on a weird wet gasp, his mouth still open to suck in air as he just lies there, face half hidden beneath a big hand he’s slapped across it, the other hand fisted and twisted in the front of Jack’s shirt.

Jack wouldn’t be able to tell whether he’s heard it first or felt it first or seen it first, but suddenly all of it is there: the dark patch on Gabriel’s combat pants widening at an alarming rate. The hiss of someone pissing with an admirable amount of pressure.

The… wetness starting to seep into his own crotch area.

His fingers are unmoving at Gabriel’s sides, yet he is starting to make sounds again; soft, grunted ‘ah… ah… ah’s that hit Jack somewhere deep and primal as he watches Gabriel piss himself.

“Holy shit…” he murmurs, his hips, still for a moment, starting to rut again. Gabriel wheezes, his hands scrabbling at Jack but only uselessly gripping his biceps.

“Fuck… you really had to piss, didn’t you?” Jack rasps. He can _still_ hear the hiss of Gabriel pissing. His bladder had to have been full to absolute _bursting_.

He’s unprepared for how… into it he is. His balls jerk, cock feeling warm and cozy from the urine starting to seep into his own pants, and _holy shit he is coming because Gabriel is wetting himself_.

Wow.


	9. Reaper/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper/Soldier76 – halloween skins; oviposition – It’s a tradition to meet up every year on Halloween.

It’s insane what they are doing, of course, but Jack has never been one to pay particular attention to what anyone said. At least not anymore; not for a long time.

He’s decided to give into Gabriel’s yearly drive with a bit of grace this time around, and it is already worth it when he sees the cloud of particles pause as soon as it slithers into the old cottage that Gabriel had abducted him to the past few times.

“MMMhhh Jackito… You look _good_ this time… finally got into the spirit, did you?” Gabriel’s smooth voice croons. It makes goosebumps rise all over Jack’s body. He almost falls immediately out of character but instead just pulls in a deep breath, the glowing slits of his mask briefly illuminating sharply in response before going back to a soft hellish burn.

Gabriel makes a sound like a little kid; all happy and excited as he comes closer. Jack can almost feel the empty eye holes of the pumpkin undressing him and… that’s a weird thing all around from start to finish.

Gabriel is much less malevolent spirit and a lot more ‘eager frat boy’ this time around, but there is also an underhanded neediness that pervades his every move.

Jack really misses the kisses, but he supposes not everybody gets to touch and feel their dead husband in the first place, so he tries not to let it get to him.

Gabriel unwraps him like a present. He is wearing the intricate costume he did on one of their last Halloweens together, and Jack tried to match him this time around.

“I like it when you grow your chest hair,” Gabriel croons from the side. It is disorienting. He’s taken his pumpkin head off and gently set it on the bedside table, and his voice is floating over from there while he pushes the ripped collar of Jack’s shirt down until it sits beneath his pecs, pushing them up and showing them off.

“And I didn’t even have to kidnap you this year… so you did like it all along.” He’s purring and smarmy but Jack doesn’t find it in himself to protest his assumptions.

He is correct, after all. It might have been disconcerting (scary, even) the first time, but… Jack has grown really fond of Gabriel whisking him away for Halloween. Really, very fond.

Gabriel is crawling all over him, pushing him down onto the slightly musky looking bed. He sounds like a big predatory cat, the perpetual rumble putting Jack strangely at ease as he gets teased out of his clothes by a headless corpse.

He misses a nice wet mouth on his nipples, but Gabriel’s fingers make up for it; plucking and teasing until he is arching and groaning despite himself. He should be dead silent in his costume, but there is no way he can pull through when he sees Gabriel crawl over him with his thick thighs spread to spear himself on Jack’s cock.

He’s getting used to the sensation of the voice next to him as well. Gabriel is whining softly, telling him about how he’s missed him; how he wants Jack to visit him more often.

“Our bond needs to be stronger,” he whines as the thick body above Jack shudders, insides feeling feverishly hot and wet as they cling to his dick. He can’t believe that this is just an apparition- just a… a _ghost_.

Gabriel feels so real…

He just grunts. He doesn’t know what to say to Gabriel’s needy whining. He lets himself get bullied around, his head pounding thick and painful the longer the night goes on. Everything just starts to blend together into one thick, exciting miasma of lust and fondness.

Gabriel fucks him, too; hiking Jack’s legs up and pressing them together to make him nice and tight as he dicks him in unrelenting, deep throats that Jack swears hit some kind of oasis inside of him and make him howl against the inside of his mask, body straining and fingers digging into the bedding.

This has nothing to do with prostate stimulation. It is more than that, yet he wouldn’t be able to put his fingers on it. It is more and it is scarier, and Gabriel is leaning over him until his knees are against his chest and he is folded in a way he wouldn’t have thought was still possible in his age.

“I need to see you more often,” Gabriel whispers from the side while his body is moving its hands, slowly dragging across his thighs; squeezing the firm muscle while plunging into him in sharp, wet thrusts that light fires up inside him and stoke them to a roar that makes it difficult to hear anything at all.

He couldn’t say how long it went on for; it felt like hours, his hole squelching like a ruined mess, fucked soft and pliant by Gabriel’s relentlessness, until all of a sudden, his body freezes.

Gabriel’s breath is deep and feels like it pushes right against his ear. He does not sound like he’s coming, but something is happening even so.

Jack makes a sharp, frantic sounding whine as his rim gets stretched a bit more for a moment. And then again. And again. Little… pulses of something while Gabriel is so deep inside him he could swear is cock is knocking up right against the underside of his lungs.

“What’re you doin’?” he slurs as he feels more movement inside of him; pushing deeper and deeper. He is getting… he is getting _filled_ with something, and Gabriel is petting at him, gentle and soothing and keeping him folded into a nice little package that Jack couldn’t escape from.

“I need more… please…” Gabriel whines. “I need to see you more often…”

Jack can feel his belly wanting to bulge with whatever Gabriel is filling him up with, but his legs are making it almost impossible. He is going cross-eyed, a reedy whine coming from him as he tries to vaguely struggle but only manages to put motion into his intestines and the hard shapes filling them.

“Shhh… shhh… everything will be alright…” Gabriel’s hand is gently petting through his hair while the carved pumpkin on the bedside table is emitting a low, gentle light.

Still, he seems to realize that there is a pressure building in Jack’s gut, and he pulls away some to let him unfold his legs more without dislodging the cock inside him.

“What… are you doing?” Jack rasps. His fingers find their way uncoordinated to his belly, nervously feeling the bump in his lower abdomen. He feels… swollen. Full.

Gabriel is gently rubbing his legs.

“I am giving you something to remember me by, Jackito. Something that will let me return to you again… Will make _you_ return to _me_ again…”

He moves his hips, a gentle back and forth that strangely has less to do with fucking and more with nudging deeper into Jack what he has deposited there.

“I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“You will.”


	10. Genji/Zenyatta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nakji/Genji/Cultist – tentacle porn; rape fantasy – Genji is telling us about some really neat dreams he has :)

Zenyatta does not need to sleep, but every once in a while he likes to power down to let his processors delete any unnecessary bits of data that have gathered up.

He obviously does not need to lie down for the purpose, but there is little more that brings him joy than knowing he is snuggled down in a bed with his pupil, and Genji is more than welcoming each and every time.

He’ll pat the side of his slim bed that is now _Zenyatta’s_ side, and wriggle over to make room for him.

Genji, quite frankly, loves when Zenyatta sleeps with him. Powers down with him… whatever. The metal is warm and smooth and he is a nice arm full of boyfriend that Genji loves to gather against his chest and keep nice and safe while Zenyatta is so very vulnerable during his powered down state.

However, there is also another side to having Zenyatta in his bed every once in a while.

It makes Genji tend to _dream_.

And Genji _loves_ to dream. At least this particular dream.

\---

It always starts the same.

He wakes up with a jerk but doesn’t realize for the longest time that his eyes are open. It is a weird sensation in which he never remembers the last time until he blinks and figures out he is suspended in a pitch black void, and the knowledge that this is a dream comes rushing back to him.

There is a moment of terror, not about what will happen but for him to become so cognizant that it’ll make him wake up and cheat him out of the experience – and then everything seems to _shift_ and his thoughts drift away when he sees movement in the darkness; slow and foreboding and making goosebumps lift all over an entirely human body.

Out of the darkness in front of him, Zenyatta appears. And yet, it is not Zenyatta. The shape is the same, overall, but the head is different. It is a bowl filled with a creature which is staring at him in an ogling kind of way. The apparition drifts closer still, and Genji can see how unnaturally wriggly its limbs are, right down to each fingertip.

Tentacles; all of it.

It reaches for him, and he is prepared to feel the soft, slimy touch on his skin, when suddenly he is snatched from behind and pulled against another body that had sneaked up on him without him noticing.

He screams, but when he opens his mouth, only big bubbles emerge. His chest heaves with huge gulps of… air? And he turns around to peek behind him.

The visage greeting him is full of fat little tentacles that move in an erratic little way as if it is amused by Genji’s reactions.

They are glowing an unnatural green as it slides thick tentacles around Genji’s body, pinning his limbs to his sides, the suckers on their undersides gently caressing his skin and holding on to it until releasing with a soft pop.

The physics are all screwed up, but Genji would never complain about shit like that. Especially when the thick tentacles from behind curl around his knees and start to spread them…

.o.

Sometimes the creatures in his dreams are benevolent, sometimes they aren’t. But Genji _always_ gets fucked.

They’re nice dreams. Genji loves them; even though sometimes he is scared shitless during the whole thing.

He realizes, of course, that both creatures are simply iterations of Zenyatta, but he’s never told his mentor about them. He doesn’t know if Zenyatta would feel complimented or insulted by it. (Chances are that Zenyatta would be absolutely delighted and intrigued.)

He’s even given them names.

Nakji, the more careful one with little, licking tentacles whose slender tips can tease the piss slit of Genji’s cock, and Cultist, who is rougher on him, manhandling him about with thick tendrils that will spread him open until he thinks he’ll never be able to walk like a normal human being ever again…

God, he loves them. He loves them like he loves Zenyatta. They _are_ Zenyatta, after all.

They never talk to him; it adds to the eeriness of the dream when he gets spread open like a fest by the Cultist, and Nakji crawls in between the wide, slutty spread of Genji’s thighs and starts to let his tentacle hands glide over his body; wriggling and writhing like worms, yet with more… agenda.

Namely, driving Genji insane.

Sometimes there are so much more tentacles than should be possible, but he doesn’t know where they come from. The more he struggles, the more will appear, curling around his throat and jaw; squeezing their way into his mouth and forcing their way down his throat. They’ll fuck him until he becomes pliant, his head feeling like it is going to explode from a lack of oxygen, yet never blacking out.

Nakji often gets right up in his face while he is whining and pathetic, his cock throbbing and ready (or not) to be penetrated by a cruel little tentacle. The creature in the globe that poses as Nakji’s head will stare at him unsettlingly.

There shouldn’t be any emotion, and there _isn’t_, strictly speaking, but he can’t help but feel like the octopus is… smug, somehow. Like it is shit-talking him even though it is just moving it’s little chubby tentacles around a bit while the rest of the body is doing the dirty work and trying to break Genji apart.

Trying and _succeeding_.

They are an infernal pair. They know him as well as Zenyatta does, but they have none of his cautiousness in asking about his feeling every now and then.

Cultist will hold him open and roughly tease his hole to accept one of his other fat tentacles, and Nakji will play with his junk, curling tight little tentacles around his balls and pulling down on them whenever Genji is getting too much into it, orgasm so close he can taste it on his tongue.

Other times, Nakji will roughly fuck a tiny, suckered tentacle into the tip of Genji’s cock and stopper everything up like that. Genji has no idea how he can even fit all of that shit inside, but he swears he can feel it gently fucking down his urethra while on the other end he is being spread so impossibly wide and stuffed until he feels pregnant with tentacles.

Cultist will sometimes make a few sounds; ominous, deep hums as if what he is doing at that time is especially satisfying to him.

He can never tell whether they are nightmares or not. They are scaring him most of the time, if he is being quite honest, but he also always gets off in the end. It is almost like getting pseudo raped by Zenyatta, and the thought is so weird and so delicious, Genji sometimes gets horny just sitting down and thinking about it while watching his Master putter about, looking and acting his usual gentle, lovable self.

It’s fucked up for sure, but Genji loves those nights Zenyatta will lie in bed with him to sleep. He loves Zenyatta, and he loves Nakji and Cultist, as scary as those motherfuckers are.

He just… loves Zenyatta in all forms, to be quite honest.

He especially loves that he’ll not say a single word when Genji wakes up clinging to him and humping against his warm, smooth metal thighs, cock wetting through his sleep pants while Zenyatta holds him and hums with gentle amusement.


	11. Reaper/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper/Soldier76 – slasher76; pumpkin king Reaper; trans Reaper; mentions of corpses/killing/fucking corpses... all that jazz, but not too over the top (I think) – Reaper is looking for a henchman and has specific job requirements.

Nothing is more frustrating than a hunt that didn’t result in some heads rolling.

No… nothing is more frustrating than a hunt that _almost_ resulted in some mayhem but had the flesh get away at the very last second.

Slasher does not well with denying himself. He does not well with getting all riled up and eager just to stand there with nothing to show for the erection down his thigh, heavy enough to make him limp.

He lumbers back to base, shoulders curled, ready to rip some unsuspecting soul apart with bare hands if they just had the decency to stumble into his path. He doesn’t meet anybody, of course.

Frustrating.

He flings his machete down and it rams itself into the soft soil in front of his rundown cabin. There are ants crawling underneath his skin. There’s a fire lit in his belly and roaring through his body until he can see the shadows thrown against the shabby walls inside.

He can feel Hell trying to claw its way out of him mouth first and there are no nice warm bodies anywhere to fuck and get the _need_ to calm _down_.

Slasher grabs at the front of his threadbare shirt and rips on it. It is already loose but it feels impossibly stifling when he’s got an erection like a baseball bat. It rips just a little bit more.

He can’t _move_ properly. His frame is held up by metal bolts and they dig into his skin and bones when he moves too much- and his _fucking cock_ is too fucking _hard!_

Slasher howls and kicks at a chair. It slams into the wall and a leg breaks off. He leans down and grabs the table, intent on flipping it over when he sees the thing that’s sitting on it.

He’s not left the pumpkin here.

Who did?

It’s big and ripe and perfectly orange. Someone has carved a menacing grin into it.

It looks warm from the inside like he does. It is glowing softly without a source to be found. It looks like it could make as a substitute for a nice dead body at least.

.o.

Reaper’s body has its pants around its thighs while he watches the Slasher get his dick out. This is working well. Really well. The creature is as dumb as a box of rocks and outplaying it to fill his… needs… is hilariously easy.

He almost makes a sound when he sees the fat cock swinging from the open latch of Slasher’s pants.

It’s the widest around the middle, and the tip is a deep, delicious red.

Outside, behind the cabin, Reaper gently spreads his labia, fingers slipping up and down his warm gash. It’s already slick and feels very silky because of it. He holds the plump lips open with one hand and slides two fingers of the other into himself.

Aaaah… that’s the ticket. That’s the spot. It’d be even better if he could ride Slasher’s cock until it hurts deep in his guts, but it is better than nothing.

There is a feeling of vertigo as Slasher reaches for him and lifts his head up with both hands.

For a moment he is lifted up to the man’s face, covered by a mask. He can see the Hellfire that sustains him glowing out of the slits across the mouth and the eyeholes. Oh yes… this man is on the verge of becoming something _very_ special.

He won’t be a human for much longer.

Reaper’s body is nearly vibrating with excitement. He shuffles his feet farther apart; as wide as they will go, pants digging into his thick thighs as he tries to give himself more room to maneuver.

His fingers reach nice and deep even so. When he crooks them, he can rub them up right against the spot that makes his whole body tingle and try to clench up.

Slasher is lowering him, giving him a nice view of the tightly muscled body; a nice pair of tits visible above the deep, slutty neckline of his ripped up shirt.

Fuck, that guy is a whore and he doesn’t even know it. It will be delicious to train him into a henchman. Make him realize that there are other thrills to be had than killing off stupid teens.

Reaper’s thighs clench around his hand when he’s finally eye to eye with his prize. He wants to open his mouth nice and wide but he’s not in the mood for Slasher to maybe have a brain cell rolling around after all and pause to think about the weirdness of the strange pumpkin moving.

He doesn’t have to fake the grin, at least. Outside, his body is sliding a hand beneath his shirt to gently pinch a nipple. The sensation zings through his body sharp and bright and has his cock throb in time with the quick, heaving breaths he is taking through his neck stump.

And then finally Slasher slots that delicious fat cock between two of the sharp juts making up his jagged grin, and gives Reaper the treatment he’d been angling after.

He can’t make himself open his thighs again; they are clamped around his hand in a death grip, holding his fingers deep in his needily spasming cunt while his mouth gets used good by the madman.

He fucks like a man possessed – hah – and Reaper is sure that if he had a conventional nose, he’d have broken it against the Slasher’s sharp hip bones as he gets face fucked deep and hard and rough.

Slasher is huffing above him, grunting like an old truck. He fucks like one, too; a rusty piece of shit that only runs anymore out of spite. He roots around inside Reaper’s head dick first like he wants to make a fucking smoothie out of him.

He doesn’t complain.

He doesn’t complain at _fucking_ all.

.o.

The insides of the pumpkin are as warm as they had looked to be. No… not merely _warm_, but borderline _hot_.

It feels like Slasher is sticking his dick into a body – a living one – and for a moment it short circuits something and leaves him reeling.

The pumpkin looked to be carved and gutted just fine, but as he fucks inside, a squishy warmth surrounds his cock. That’s… pretty good. Like fucking some guts through a hole he’s carved into a victim’s tummy.

Like really getting in there and fucking shit up.

He leans the back of the pumpkin against the side edge of the old desk to get more leverage as he grunt fucks into the broadly grinning mouth. There are wet sounds, almost like sucking as he drags his cock through the innards of the pumpkin.

It’s like there is a nice mouth on his dick. Like someone is actually putting in some effort and producing a nice vacuum to service him with.

It’s better than fucking corpses, that’s for sure…

Outside, against the back wall of the cabin, Reaper is fucking himself on his fingers, trying to mimic the nice fat cock he’s suckling on. He can’t wait to put a spell over this idiot and make him his henchman. His brainless, submissive fuckdoll.


	12. Lúcio/Reaper + McCree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lúcio/Reaper (+McCree) – animal people/werewolves; moon madness; impregnation kink; rape tw, noncon tw – Lúcio didn’t listen to the elders and now he has to bear the consequences.

Everyone in the village has said to not go into the forest around the time of the full moon, but nobody ever divulged on why exactly.

Whenever Lúcio had tried to weasel information out of them, they merely had commented that it was too dangerous and that violent creatures lived in there.

_That’s stupid_, Lúcio had always thought._ I’m friends with everyone in there. And the wolves are super friendly, they wouldn’t let anybody hurt me anyway._

He’d never even imagined that it would be precisely those wolves that would be the ones chasing him through the underbrush and making his heart pump so fast he was sure it was going to… to explode or something.

He’s only caught a little sight of Jesse’s face, but it had been… terrifying. It had been weirdly distorted, and the eyes had been… vivid. Deranged, even.

_What’s happening? What’s happening to them?_ Lúcio thinks frantically as his rabbit legs catapult him in zig-zagging lines through the forest, sliding in sharp turns around trees in the hopes of losing his pursuer in the process.

The forest is almost a pitch black in this region, however, and it makes it nigh impossible to find out a suitable route out of the thicket. The crowns of the trees are so close not even the bright full moon light is penetrating their leaves.

And then his nose picks up on another scent, but it is already too late when his brain registers on the person attached to it.

He runs face first into Gabriel’s awaiting arms. He is disoriented, nose aching from colliding directly with the wolf leader’s chest, slowly dripping blood.

“You got to help me!” Lúcio cries, admittedly hysterically. “Jesse’s… he’s…” He trails off as he stares up at Gabriel. Gabriel’s huge hands are wrapped around his upper arms, grabbing on to them tightly enough to bruise. Almost, Lúcio imagines, tight enough to snap the bone.

Gabriel’s face is just as monstrous as Jesse’s. His teeth seem sharper and bigger than usual, fur crawling up his neck and jaw in a way it never usually does.

They’ve always smelled like predators of course, but now the stench is… it is almost overwhelming. Lúcio is staring into Gabriel’s grinning face with a sinking feeling of despair as the rest of the pack starts closing in on them from all sides.

“You should have listened to your elders, little bunny,” Gabriel murmurs. “The forest at full moon is no place for a tender little treat such as you.”

.o.

Lúcio has never been as aware about the size difference between his kind and the wolves as when he is being fucked from behind by Gabriel and his little hole is spread open impossibly wide on his ramrod of a cock.

“Are you seeing this, Jesse?” Gabriel snarls. They’re inside the wide underground passages they have dug into the side of a mountain. Other members skitter like shadows just around the edges of what is a permissible distance while Jesse is sitting just an arm’s length away and watches the action with drool sliding out between his teeth.

“This is how you treat a bitch!”

Lúcio yelps when one huge fist curls around his soft, long ears and closes around them like a vice. Tears spring to his eyes as his head is pulled back by his ears.

“Wh-why are you doing this?” he sobs, but nobody answers. They haven’t paid any attention to him or his pleading since Gabriel has wrestled him to the ground and forced his massive cock into the tender little hole usually hidden beneath the little slip of his tail.

Jesse does not answer. He looks like he is incapable of any brain function that does not include killing or fucking. 

Lúcio has never before seen his friends like this. It is as if they are put under a spell.

_The full moon!_ but his epiphany comes too late, of course. He should have listened when there had still been time, and not when he’s already speared on cock and fucked like they were trying to rip his soft tummy open with their cocks from the inside.

Lúcio is gasping, fingers scrabbling against the ground, trying and failing to get any purchase to crawl away from the rough mounting. His furry ass and thighs are cushioning every harsh thrust that would have resulted in a thick, meaty slap.

He can feel Gabriel’s balls slapping against him. Just one more little detail that seems to burn itself into Lúcio’s mind as he gets fucked and made a lecture out of.

“You have to subdue them,” Gabriel growls. Lúcio has no idea how he can do so with that impressive mouth full of teeth. It is difficult to focus on things like that, though, when his insides are burning up; set alight again and again by the massive cock sawing through him.

“You have to show them their place in the food chain. And you have to make sure that it _takes_.”

Gabriel pulls harder on Lúcio’s ears at that, making him cry out. He can feel the hot, harsh breath of his assailant on the vulnerable little slope between neck and shoulder.

Gabriel is curled above his back, bearing down on him as he pumps his hips and deep dicks the little rabbit until Lúcio is sure he has to be tasting salty pre on the back of his tongue. 

This is horrible. Unthinkable. Destructive.

And yet…

“You have to make sure they are ready for your seed… are you listening, Jesse? Are you watching?”

Lúcio’s thighs are all weak. He doesn’t think he could hop back to his village right now even if they let him go for some reason. At the apex of his thighs, his cock is bouncing softly in a fleece of silky fur which is already getting tacky with pre-cum.

His thoughts are wrenched away from these new turns of events when he feels a little something sliding into him on every inward stroke and popping out with every pull back. It seems to… grow, and the additional stretch should be absolutely impossible, but… well. It is happening.

Jesse is crawling closer a little, absolute greed in his gaze as he begins to circle them, apparently waiting for a great crescendo that Lúcio is too distraught to try and figure out at this point.

He is quiet, cheek against the ground, just letting himself get fucked into submission, eyes rolling into his head when the big cock inside his guts does… anything at all, really.

And then Gabriel does not pull back anymore. He just pushes and pushes and pushes as if he is trying to crawl into Lúcio’s soft warm body right after his cock, and it is _flexing_ inside him and seemingly _plumping up_ for a second-

before Gabriel starts groaning deep and guttural.

“There you go… take it, little bunny… I can’t wait for you to get nice and fat with my seed…”

In the morning, the whole spook would be over with. Lúcio hopes. He hopes Gabriel and Jesse and all the others will come back to their senses and be horrified about what they did and cuddle Lúcio and make sure his poor little hole doesn’t hurt anymore.

But for now, Gabriel is roaring in triumph as he pumps Lúcio full until he can feel his soft belly starting to swell with it.


	13. Roadhog/Dva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roadhog/Hana – very brief mention of rape threat (Hana does not give a fuck); femdom; cuckold; massive insertion/belly bulge; good boy Hog – Hog is just such a good boy and Hana loves him very very much and she is basically the Robin Hood of sexy webcam streams?

“I really want to destroy you on my dick… slut,” Hana reads aloud slowly as she leans closer to the screen to see. Her little tits hang down just a bit from the gravity of her leaning over, but there is not quite enough tissue to really make them swing.

She giggles and sits up again, grabbing the webcam and gently pushing on it a bit to get it to point down to her slim thighs.

“I’d like to see you try,” she chirps, spreading her knees for the camera. She tugs on just one labia, flashing the horny bastards on the other side of the camera just a bit of the bright red insides. She grins when she sees the chat beginning to roll impossibly fast, probably with complaints about her being ‘a stingy little bitch’. She doesn’t mind; her audience is filled with creepy perverts and disgusting machos, and she got them all by the balls.

They might be saying that they want to rape her in an alley, but the truth is that they come into her stream again and again to have her talk down on them and show them exactly what they can and will not have.

At her back, Hog is slowly breathing in deeply, his huge belly pushing her forward some before retracting again. She wriggles her ass on his warm, massive cock and gently pets his large hand that he’s placed on his knee because it is as close as he dares to touch her without permission.

Her cute big boy. Her dream man. The only dude in the world that she’d let her little snatch be railed by. (Well… hmmm… Dr. de Kuiper and Reinhardt are also very cute…).

“Alright, you degenerates,” she says after a minute or two more of just flashing them little glimpses and pinching at her lower belly to show them how silky and soft it is. “You don’t deserve shit, but I might let you watch something really fun if you start giving me your money.”

She leans in again to drag her monitor closer and be able to watch the chat. Beneath her ass, Hog’s cock is very valiantly trying to lift but she sits back down on it before it can slip out from beneath her. It is broad and warm and silky and she likes just feeling it against her skin like this.

He inhales deeply again, but he does not make a sound. She’s never met anyone that is as well-behaved as her fat piggy.

When the chat only keeps complaining, she rolls her eyes and grabs Roadhog’s hand. She gently pulls it over until it is in the camera in all its fat fingered, beringed glory.

She can almost see how the chat is stalling for just a second before it is flooded with comments like ‘holy shit’ and ‘is that a real hand?!’.

“I told you some time ago that I’d show you my boyfriend,” she croons. She puts Hog’s hand on her belly to feel how swelteringly warm it is and to also let the camera take in just how massive it looks on her. “And if you’re being generous I might feel generous as well and show you how I take his cock… and let you see for yourselves that your stupid little dicks would never be able to do it for me.”

That, at last, gets the cash cow going. She doesn’t need it, of course, but she likes pulling money out of the pockets of stupid guys that think they can be rude while getting off on being denied, yet always refusing to admit it.

When she is happy with the amount, she leans in again and presses a shortcut button. She can see on the preview how the visual changes to two cameras; the larger window showing how she is sitting in front of her get-up, revealing how she had been using Hog as a seat the whole time, the other smaller window within the window is the same camera pointed to her crotch.

The chat is going ballistic. They are probably commenting on just how impossibly huge her boy is; maybe remarking on how fat he is, too. They’re pretty simple minded like that. She does not mind, nor does she care.

Hog is looking ahead of himself with a kind of zen-attitude that never fails to be immensely fascinating to her. Hana herself is a ball of energy, always bouncing around between one project and the next and continuously horny while doing so.

Hog, on the other hand, moves more like a sloth, despite her knowing for a fact that he can haul ass if need to. She thinks that if she were to deny him for half a year, he wouldn’t even be fazed. Getting to pump his load is not an immediate priority for him, which makes finding punishments for misbehavior a lot more difficult for her with her one-track mind.

They’ve managed quite well for now, though, she thinks.

She makes sure both cameras are positioned correctly, and then she doesn’t pay any mind to the chat anymore as she twists and turns to come face to face with her boy. She grins at him and curls her arms around his thick neck.

“Hey there, handsome,” she coos, lying on his huge belly and spreading her thighs gladly to feel his wide cockhead nudging against her naked labia.

God, he’s so enormous…

He makes a soft little sound like a grunt, then gently curls both hands around her waist, fingers easily touching around her. She’ll never get tired of just how much bigger he is than her.

“Cute,” he murmurs. He is wearing his gasmask for the stream, but she knows he is eying her upturned face and how she used a lot of glitter in her make-up. He’s always very appreciative of her efforts.

She grins at him broadly and wriggles on top of him to press a kiss against the snout of the mask before really getting to work.

“God… I could never fuck another cock after this,” she groans for the benefit of their audience. It is not played up, but she usually doesn’t say these things; just thinks them heatedly with a scrambled brain whenever she finally manages to pop his impossibly fat mushroom tip inside her.

Fuck… her hips feel like they are going to burst apart. This impossible girth…

“N-nobody can fuck me like you do… w-wouldn’t even be able to feel other dicks,” she whines, voice all high-pitched and pathetic. She can barely string two words together; her head feels as hot and full as her cunt does as she spears herself on his cock.

She has no idea what the chat is doing right now. She can not muster the strength to turn herself around and watch when she is slowly but surely working Hog’s cock into her belly.

Her eyes cross when she feels her stomach distend from it. She should’ve done all this the other way around, maybe, and let the perverts see how Hog’s girth is making her look pregnant on dick, but part of her doesn’t want to share it with these assholes.

They don’t deserve it.

They deserve nothing, as far as she is concerned.

Hog is the best lover she could ever have, and he isn’t doing more than sit there and let her crawl all over him.

He’s her good, good boy.


	14. Reaper/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The special 14th fill to tide you all over the weekend... it’s a jumbo fill of
> 
> R76 – transman Reaper; thicc Reaper; body positivity; showing off; jerking off; orgasm denial; ruined orgasm; dom/sub tones; voyeurism; usage of the word ‘cunt’ but also ‘dick/cock/T-dick’ – Jack stumbles across his absolute wet fantasy.
> 
> The first part was from [another site I should not mention on AO3]... I’ll post it here as well because I am a good person like that. Enjoy!

Jack should be pushing weights, but he is distracted.

He hasn’t even made his way to his bench yet, just hides behind some big equipment, staring out from between metal bars at the quite frankly obscene sight that is Gabriel Reyes lying on a bench and stemming weights.

It is early in the morning and only Hanzo has made his way inside the gym besides the two of them, sequestered somewhere in the back with music plugged deep into his ears to dissuade anybody from striking up a conversation with him.

That leaves Jack able to stand and stare at his own leisure at the man that must clearly have been working out for quite some time now as his clothes are soaked in sweat.

Clothes that are… or should be… illegal. He doesn’t even know where Gabriel dragged the top and shorts combination out from. The top is wide with a deep neckline that shows off the tight, furred swells of his pecs, and when he sits up to grab a bottle of water to the side, Jack can also see his sides through the wide arm holes. He might as well not be wearing a shirt at all; yet, as wide as that one is, as skin tight his shorts seem to be.

It can’t be comfortable, he is pretty sure; the fabric is digging into the meat of Gabriel’s impossibly thick thighs, the crotch and creases of his thighs dark with sweat – and when he leans back to resume his workout, feet planted apart for better purchase, knees whorishly spread, his cunt his outlined with such a perfect kind of clarity that Jack has to reflexively reach down and grab his cock through his own way looser pair of shorts.

He can’t believe this. He can’t believe this is actually happening. He’s been drooling after Gabriel for… a few decades now, but he’s never had this perfect opportunity to just sit back, relax and watch the magic that was this man’s body.

While Jack had grown in height during SEP, Gabriel had grown in muscle mass. He is a wall of firm, impossibly meaty limbs; stocky and gorgeous. The fact that he is stealthy on top of it all has Jack’s cock start to get wet at the tip. He’s always had a competency boner. He wonders idly as he quietly watches the show and squeezes his clothed cock, if Gabriel is the reason for it in the first place.

Gabriel’s biceps tremble and strain as he carefully pushes the weight back up, and then deposits it once more in order to scratch at his chest thoughtlessly. The motion displaces the fabric enough that Jack can see his dark, tight nipple exposed to the cool air; a hard little nub that makes his mouth water.

He’s a dirty old man; he knows as much, but he doesn’t think Gabriel would mind if he knew that he were standing there and ogling him. Maybe he would even enjoy the attention, but Jack doesn’t want to risk having this vision end early just because he had to pull attention on himself unnecessarily.

As he watches, Gabriel stands. For a second he thinks that he might be switching to a different equipment, but he only punches in a code at the end of the weights, and the gentle color they take on afterwards alerts Jack to him having made them a bit lighter.

He frowns and can’t quite figure out why Gabriel would do so, but he is sitting back down on the bench so he really can’t complain.

Gabriel has a much easier time pushing them now, of course, and his reasoning behind the actions only becomes clear when Jack realizes the weird way Gabriel is starting to curl his pelvis.

Instead of keeping it perfectly still, he begins curling it upwards slightly, making Jack pay more attention to the obscene way his shorts are clinging to his crotch, wet and molding to the form of the meatiest cunt he’s ever seen.

He’s been able to sneak peeks in the showers, of course, but there is something even more naughty about hiding himself away and seeing it through the thin layer of fabric. He is pretty sure that Gabriel is not wearing any underwear underneath.

In his mind he thinks that maybe Gabriel is angling for it; to let others see his perfect, stocky body. 

As he stares, he becomes aware of Gabriel’s cock – a slowly growing bulge at the apex of his fat cunt – and suddenly everything clicks into place.

Gabriel is getting off on it. He moves his hips so he can drag his cock against the clinging, sweat wet fabric of the shorts, and he does not need any weight to distract him from the sensation of rubbing his T-dick against basically nothing.

He is still stemming the weights but it is rudimentary only. Jack presses one big hand against his mouth, watching in fascination how Gabriel’s cock is growing; very obviously outlined and obscene looking as it twitches and Gabriel gasps.

If his cunt is getting any more wet it is impossible to tell.

Gabriel is making soft sounds now as he stares resolutely against the bar of the weight he’s stemming, sweat beading along his hairline while he keeps curling his sturdy hips and tries to get himself off like that while Shimada is basically in line of sight even though he is focused on himself and probably wouldn’t care either way.

Jack is squeezing his cock, slowly jerking himself as he watches.

A few minutes in Gabriel rests the weights to reach down and grab his short, loose top to push it up and make it bunch in his armpits, exposing his thick upper body.

He doesn’t have a tight washboard belly, but instead one solid wall of muscle. It makes Gabriel look even meatier; sturdy to a point that Jack knows he’d have trouble stemming this man.

Gabriel’s pecs are just as round and prominent; with small, dark nipples that make Jack’s mouth water. He wants to bite at them and hear Gabriel howl.

As he watches, Gabriel rests the weight yet again, though this time it doesn’t look like he is going to pick it back up any time soon.

He is arching his back, chin angling towards the ceiling as he cups his right pec with one hand and the other slides down, fingers spreading around the jut of his cock against the wet fabric of his tight shorts.

Jack thinks, irrelevantly, that Gabriel will have to rip them apart to even get out of them again. They are digging into the thick muscle of his thighs and holding on for dear life as Gabriel starts to slowly rub thick, blunt fingertips along the lips of his fat cunt.

Jack doesn’t think he’s ever seen a cunt as gorgeous as Gabriel Reyes’. Meaty and hairy in a very nicely groomed kind of way. He’s had to hide boners for as long as he can remember, watching Gabriel shower, his hand sliding down to wash his pussy, spreading the fat lips and flashing the dark red insides.

Jack is imagining them now, hidden beneath the dark fabric of Gabriel’s workout shorts. He can’t see any underwear outlined; he’s pretty sure Gabriel has opted out of it with the express purpose of getting off during his morning workout routine.

Gabriel is rubbing his thumb across the tip of his cock and wheezes long and drawn out, his whole body taut as a bow string.

He is squeezing his pec, pinching his tight nipple between two fingers, and Jack fucks against the palm of his hand, wishing that he’d be the one doing it. With his teeth.

Gabriel looks… breathtaking. Stunning.

Jack wonders how often he’s done this; gotten off like this, worshiping his own thick body in the wee morning hours right here in the open; maybe with a member of the team just off to the side, none the wiser like Shimada is right now, going about his own business.

Jack can smell Gabriel now, too; thick and salty, a mixture of his sweat and the musk of his fat cunt as he cups it now and squeezes it in his big palm, then starts dragging his fingers up and down the plump slit, coaxing the fleshy lips to spread farther apart beneath the fabric.

He lets go off his pec now to be able to keep jerking his cock while his other hand is busy trying to nudge his wide fingers into himself through the fabric. It’s just teasing, all of it, but Jack can’t help but wonder if Gabriel would dare to fuck himself on a toy if he had one available right now.

Gabriel is bringing himself up to a peak again and again, but never letting himself orgasm as far as Jack can tell who has by now wet through his own shorts, dragging his palm across the wet tip of his cock in slow, measured circles that try to match the self-indulgent rhythm Gabriel has going.

And then suddenly… Gabriel just stops. He sighs and stretches and sits up, making Jack nearly trip over himself to duck more properly behind the equipment he’s using as a hiding spot.

Gabriel grabs his stuff and stands, unashamed of the bulge of his cock, clearly erect and clearly visible as he takes off to the showers to maybe finish there what he’s started.

Jack wonders if he’s dreamed all of it.

\---

****

There is a moment where Jack is just rooted to the spot – and then he stumbles out behind the equipment to follow in the thick, salty cloud of stench that wafts after Gabriel.

Jack is huffing it like an addict, his cock swinging in his loose sweatpants like the wagging tail of a dog. He can’t get enough of smelling Gabriel Reyes’ fat, excited cunt – or his sweaty pits, for that matter.

The sight is burned into his retinas: Gabriel with his legs whorishly spread, showing off his body while he pretends to be working out.

His T-dick pressing against the fabric and looking like it’d fit perfectly into Jack’s mouth. He wonders if it would taste salty. He hopes for it. Fuck… He wants to blow this man until his mouth is bright red and sore.

He wants to get fucked by this brick shithouse until he is begging for mercy and feels like his bones have been ground into a fine powder.

Gabriel has vanished into the showers. Jack is standing outside in the hallway like a recalcitrant child that has been ordered out of the classroom. His overheated brain tries to figure out just how long it will take Gabriel to get out of his ridiculous workout clothes and underneath the shower.

He will try to slip inside while the sound of the water is masking the sound of the door. He does not quite know what to do afterwards, really. There is not much room for him to hide himself.

Jack Morrison, master tactician, reduced to a horny fucking idiot by his oldest friend.

Eventually, he does open the door and steps inside. One of the showerheads is already drumming water against Gabriel’s shoulders. The shower area as such is open into the changing rooms and he only needs to turn his head to see Gabriel standing right there.

Right _fucking_ there. 

There are still indents around his massive thighs where the shorts had dug into the meat.

Jack should… duck behind something or… do… anything, really, but Gabriel is already turning his head beneath the spray and is fixing him with his dark chocolate eyes.

His dark, _knowing_ eyes.

His lips twitch slightly into a condescending grin. He is bracing himself against the wall with one forearm, and the other is free to slowly roam his body. His thick, meaty body.

“What’s up, Morrison?” he asks, but Jack knows in that moment that Gabriel knows _exactly_ why he is here. Gabriel knows, down to a T what, in fact, is “up”. Probably has known Jack was there even before in the gym when Jack’s been watching like the disgusting pervert that he is.

There is no way to hide his impossibly hard boner in any case.

Jack’s mouth falls open but no word comes out. Gabriel is turning towards him the slightest bit, letting him see the profile of his round pecs and the sturdy wall of muscle that is his belly.

His free hand is slowly sliding up his wet skin until he is cupping one of his pecs. Jack can feel his cock flexing in the sweatpants he is wearing. Gabriel’s gaze flicks down briefly.

He has seen it too.

“You’re an old fucking pervert, Morrison. Disgusting,” Gabriel tells him, but it sounds lazy. He is still grinning and squeezing his meaty pec for his viewing pleasure. When Jack makes a slow, lumbering step towards him, Gabriel’s face shuts down immediately, however.

His bushy brows come down, the corners of his mouth pulling into a frown as he stops his movements immediately.

“Stay where you are, pervert,” he barks, and Jack freezes on the spot. Gabriel looks him up and down. He seems… disgusted, and shit if that’s not doing it for Jack as well.

Gabriel lets go of his pec and turns around until he can lean one round shoulder against the wall, showing Jack his whole glorious front.

Jack is staring at Gabriel’s cock jutting out from between the fat lips of his cunt, so it takes him a few moments to realize that Gabriel has stretched out one arm and is pointing imperiously at the bench behind Jack.

Gabriel has one lip pulled up in a disgusted sneer.

“Sit down, asshole. I don’t know what self-respecting person would let you get your grubby hands on them but _I_ certainly won’t. You can watch for all I care.”

There’s a huge wet spot in the front of Jack’s sweatpants right where the head of his cock is pushing against the fabric, the crown sticky wet with his excitement. God, he wants to touch… but he wants even more to obey Gabriel and have him call him all the names under the fucking sun.

He plops down, legs spread wide, eyes trained on Gabriel with single-minded intent and adoration.

“You’re… gorgeous.”

Gabriel sneers. He slowly reaches down, thick fingers teasing around his belly button before gently carding into the nicely groomed pubes he has.

“I know I am, pervert. I don’t need an old freak to tell me that.”

Jack inhales sharply. He leans back slowly, bracing himself with one hand while the other kind of mimics Gabriel and starts to push fingertips beneath the drawstring of his sweatpants.

Gabriel rolls his eyes, but even from this distance Jack can see how he is getting… excited again. How they go a bit glassy as he is leaning back against the wall, water drumming against his shoulders and the back of his head while staring at Jack.

“Show me what you’re packing,” Gabriel orders. His thick fingers inch their way even farther down, but only tease himself and Jack by gently rubbing the apex of his cunt. He’s not spreading the lips for Jack; he’s not grabbing his cock and showing off the nice slide of the hood.

Jack’s eyes are burning and he suddenly remembers that he has to blink. He does so profusely, his heart hammering wildly as he lifts his ass to push his sweatpants down mid-thigh. He could have just hooked the waistband beneath his balls but he is overeager like a much younger man and he wants to show off properly.

It’s lost on Gabriel; or so it seems, at least, when Jack’s cock springs out and lazily flags to one side, pre-cum bubbling at the tip and then slowly oozing in a wet string down to soak into the leg of his sweats. Gabriel looks… bored. Maybe even annoyed.

At the very least: he is absolutely unimpressed, and one of Jack’s hands flies to curl around his balls and pull down on them meanly so he doesn’t immediately come.

Fuck this is… oh shit. He hasn’t even thought this might be… doing it for him as hard as it is.

Gabriel rolls his eyes, then leans his head back against the wall as well, eyes closed like he can’t stand to be looking at Jack’s sadly swinging dick any longer. The water is drumming against his thick, juicy pecs as he shuffles his feet a bit farther apart so he can finally open the fat lips of his cunt and show Jack… everything.

Holy shit…

Jack’s brain is stalling. He is staring, one fist around his dick, the other still pulling on his balls, but there is no particular thought running through his mind as he sits and sweats like a pervert, and watches as Gabriel slowly and with self-indulgence drags his blunt fingertips up and down the perfect gash that he’s got there.

He gives his T-dick one, two, three slow, loving strokes, then slides down to unhurriedly slide two thick fingers into himself. His face is slack, brows just a little pinched as he feels himself up.

As he _loves_ on himself.

Jack can’t remember when he’s last seen someone just enjoy himself. All the porn that he watches is kind of hectic, getting to the action immediately, but this is… pretty good. Really very good.

Gabriel plays with his body like he’s done back in the gym; like Jack isn’t there to breathe way too loudly while watching Gabriel’s thick, muscled body tremble whenever he touches a really good spot inside himself.

His cock is hating him right now. He’s stroking himself in too tight slides of his fist that are designed to make him cum, all the while he’s pulling his balls long until his eyes ache and nausea is starting to rise in his ribcage.

He lets go off himself and just watches Gabriel do his magic, otherwise he might unwittingly just castrate himself in the process.

He must be making some kind of sound because Gabriel is opening one eye and looks at him, lip curling weakly into a sneer before it dissolves into an open-mouthed, noiseless expression of need.

Gabriel is moving his wrist now, pumping his fingers into himself while the other hand has fingers around his cock, teasing it until Jack can see how he has to lock his knees up to keep himself from sliding down the wall.

There’s a noise shivering through the showers, and it takes Jack’s overheated brain a bit to realize that that noise is coming from Gabriel; an almost ethereal low wail as he seems to build himself up to an orgasm.

Jack’s mouth is dropping open, his chin on his collar bones as he leans forward because he needs to be as close to Gabriel as possible.

His ass is glued to his seat; there’s not any doubt in his mind that he’ll sit here until Gabriel tells him he is allowed to leave.

Gabriel is spreading his hole on his two thick fingers as he stretches them apart, and Jack feels so goddamn faint as he thinks he can look _into_ Gabriel for just one glorious second. He thinks that his insides look dark pink and absolutely silky as he’s flashed. He presses one palm against his mouth, his other hand unwittingly curling around his cock once more, strangling it in its hold.

Gabriel’s hips are moving; fucking against his harshly moving hands, and Jack thinks again about earlier when he’s fantasized about getting fucked by Gabriel until his hips are ground into a fine powder, and shit… shit, he thinks that could become a reality.

All of Gabriel’s muscles are tense and trembling; trained to a point of absolute perfection. Jack has no idea why he’s decided to let him watch, but he thinks he’ll thank him by dropping down to his knees and kissing his feet.

He’s right there as Gabriel pushes himself up and up and _up_ until he is literally on the balls of his feet, slightly bouncing up and down, an unsteady _hah... hah… hah…_ coming from his wide open mouth.

The crown of his cock is a dark red and impossibly thick. Jack imagines having it against his tongue. Sucking it. Being allowed to kneel there with his mouth wide open and letting Gabriel come right against him.

But Gabriel doesn’t call him over, of course. He’s not even looking at him as he comes on a low, drawn-out grunt that sounds so fucking relieved that Jack can feel it in his bones.

Gabriel’s hips are jerking, his massive thighs shivering as he comes, spraying a thick load that Jack can see for a second despite the shower trying to obscure it. Gabriel is stroking himself through it while his hole clenches around the thick fingers lodged deeply inside it.

Jack doesn’t know how much time passes but eventually Gabriel begins to righten himself. He opens his eyes and blearily looks around until his gaze focuses on Jack. His lip curls into an epic sneer that makes a side of his nose scrunch up as well as he looks him up and down.

He eventually scoffs and turns away from Jack with a low: “Fucking pervert…”

But Jack can tell that he’s liked the audience.

He looks down, then, staring at the mess he’s made. His ears are burning. He’s come without even noticing, the glow of orgasm weirdly absent in his body. It hits him like a punch in the gut – he’s never tried to ruin any of his orgasms and it’s a weird out-of-body experience to realize now on top of everything else that he’s… really into this.

He wonders if he’s dreaming.

He hopes he isn’t.


End file.
